Being there

Mike Nock’s Quintet, his trio with two friends, was an interesting gig. Right from the top it felt like comfortable old times. The lines and melodies and grooves were old family: jazz rock, Miles, Herbie and the like. I could hear the same piano accompaniment. I could feel the mildly mutating rhythm section as it settled behind the front line with a choppy ocean busy-ness. The chords flowed by slowly, perhaps 4 bars to one chord, regularly changing and gently paced, leaving the soloist plenty of time to feel the changes. These were post-hippy times, still gentle and emotionally committed. This feels good to my ears. I think of Buster Williams and some favourite albums. Nick Garbett’s new to the band, smiling, enjoying the outing and playing wonderfully structured solos, a cry, a pause, a volley of falling notes. Miles again, space and notes that crawl against the backing. Karl fills the space more, but does a similar take with falling lines although somewhat more blues infected. Mike is adventurous, taking an idea and extending it over long ranges, or stopping and finding some unexpected and obtuse take on the chords before reimagining lines into contrary scalar movements. There was a blues starting with a bass solo that could have started a Mingus tune and leading into a slow, deep Southern langour. Here, Karl’s solos are all bends and blues and Nick’s are wakeup calls of sudden high staccato and some florid, some languid fills. Then TBA, a bouncy contemporary feel with concurrent solos from the horns and clavinet from Mike. Somewhere, James had taken a solo against a piano/bass phrase. This was all punchy with neat rudiment-induced divisions of the beat and triplets that delay the feel and rolls tat explode into cymbals. Explosive for a jazz solo; Nick smiled some more. The second set started with the band settling into a D minor bass groove and settling into a slow funk for the solos. Slow news day was more story telling, with a floating intro and pensive melody: portraying a lazy news room or perhaps some personal relief at a benign nightly news. Not surprisingly, the first solo was from bass then sax, the softer horn. Last tune of the night was Colours, long with feverish walks and rabid collective improv and slips into free jazz. Nice gig. Mike Nock (piano) led a quintet with Nick Garbett (trumpet), Karl Laskowski (tenor), Brett Hirst (bass) and James Waples (drums).

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

Musing and perusing (SO2)

SoundOut 2013 day 2, in which he continues to muse on the nature of this strangeness. I continue to be uncertain over this music. I listen with my eyes closed and it can be fascinating. Some players spark references to traditions and I respond to that. When Luiz dropped into a slow bass walk that was quite free of tonality, I felt comforted. I’m not so settled with some of the bowing and slapping and other techniques. In his clock-conducted piece from Saturday, Jon Rose gave instructions to do something and eating was one option. On Sunday, he improvised by picking up a broom and sweeping the premises and later closed and opened a piano lid and discussed it with a colleague. He also presented a talk of two parties, a woman seemingly uninvited at the mic, he sitting and chatting, talking of marriage and music and more. This was interesting but odd as a music performance (agreed, words are sounds, but they have defined meanings that music doesn’t have). I enjoyed this but was frustrated by trying to catch two related but different conversions at once, but then, that’s probably one theme. I discussed these dilemmas with various friends and performers. One saw this music as taking away all the traditions and using what’s left. He remains a hard-bop devotee. One performer flummoxed me by saying that this music has its own traditions now (almost a century of Cage, Bartók, Stockhausen and the like) and that all the performers are out of jazz or classical training anyway. That certainly had me thinking. Another spoke of texture as a concern, of having no interest in a tonal centre, let alone harmony, how it didn’t matter which strings are muted with bluetak. It sounded chaotic but I loved her playing that ranged from delicate with repeated fingered patterns to loud and tumultuous with impassioned tone clusters that ranged over the keyboard. But then, another player slammed heavy hands on a keyboard with none of her skills and subtlety. It worked and she responded effectively, but it further confused my responses.

So what did we hear on the evening session of day 2? A few group improvisations that were floating and indeterminate to my ears. A combination with the Sydney rhythm section of Mike Majkowski and James Waples floated at first, but took off on top of wonderful rhythmic power from James. This was nowhere near a groove, but well-formed heavy notes with oblique overlays of stick play. I particularly enjoyed Hermione Johnson on piano in several outings. First with Jon Rose and Luiz where Jon’s humour and unconventionality and virtuosity, Luiz’s commitment, bowing and occasional pizz and Hermione’s densely passionate and expansive tone clusters were invigourating and emotionally satisfying. Hermione also impressed me when backing Super-8 experimental film artist, Louise Curham, along with Jeff Henderson on calls and wails on baritone sax. The whole show ended with the Barcode Quartet returning for a set and a welcome to all the other musos to join in to end the festival.

I have lots to learn of post-tonal music. This was a vivid exposure to a field and a happy one with a range of interesting and friendly performers from across the world. I have some reading to do in preparation for next year. And one last cheer to Richard Johnson for his great work in pulling this together for the fourth time.

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

On the other side (SO1)

The ACO was performing Tognetti’s Mozart in Llewellyn Hall. I dread to think how the ACO audience would have taken to SoundOut, the experimental music and free jazz festival in progress just the other side of the car park in Theatre 3. SoundOut is now in its fourth year. It’s a weekend festival of experimental music and free jazz organised by local reedist Richard Johnson. And all praise to him for the effort. This thing is growing; it’s international; it’s well provided with gear in a fitting venue. And this event was being multitracked for likely ABC broadcast.

This is not music of Mozartian popularity. It’s a strange world of noise and exploration and alternative techniques and small audiences. There were about 25 performers from Australia and NZ, but also from Germany, Austria, UK, Canada and Brazil, here with the help of various embassies. It’s controversial and a thought challenge. It’s certainly unconventional, and to some degree that’s its purpose. It’s rethinking about sound, exploring and expanding the palette of noise that we call music and sometimes venturing into associated arts. There was a dancer and an experimental film performer this evening, along with an electronics performer and 20+ musicians on traditional instruments. They were not necessarily played traditionally, of course. I wonder why they bother with traditional instruments for some noise explorations (like spinning clarinet parts or timber floors or the metallic clicking of clips against saxes) but they are perfectly relevant for others (like bows on cymbals or clucking on sax mouthpieces) and, anyway, they are on stage with these instruments in their hands. There are various degrees of traditional skills, too. This is where I found my preferences. I could clearly see traditional training and harmonic awareness in the Barcode Quartet from Austria/UK. I found them my favourite outing for the night. The forthright stand by Alison Blunt was worthy of the ACO next door, and although she dabbled in alt techniques, her fingering and bowing were exemplary. So were the wonderfully expressive and tonally varied vocals of Annette Giesriegl which sounded all the way from beak clicks to Nordic languages. The piano of Elizabeth Harnick was slabs of dissonance and delicacy of directly plucked strings and thoughtful search for harmony. And the male of the group, Josef Klemmer, played these popular light sticks, laid down authentic rhythms and touched on Nintendo drums, sounding all electronic and heavy and processed. Given their basis in trad skills, they may fit more in the free jazz than experimental field, but whatever, I found these thrilling and thoughtful and authentic.

Tony Buck played drums with Magda Mayas, a German pianist. I felt similarly for Tony as he took from more traditional forms. They had some initial technical problems, but after this, the set developed strongly. I’d lent my bass to Luiz Gubeissi of the Abaetetuba Collective, and I’d heard some impressive skills when he was warming up and checking out the bass in the morning, some forceful pizz and manly bowing. I liked it when he dropped into a short segment of pizz in their set. I felt it collected the instruments, formed a groove of sorts, brought things together more. But they mostly explored the experimental field of unfettered emotional expression and prepared instruments. There were fiddles and shamisens and guitars but in this context they are removed from cultural references. It’s noise as art. I often find it valid and engrossing when I close my eyes, but it is also culturally distant to my ears.

The major work of the night was Composition for 25 artists by Jon Rose. This was interesting. A full stage of musicians, one dancer, one video artist, four pianists on two pianos, three drum kits and several other drummers, and front and centre, a screen displaying minutes and seconds. The work commenced with 1 minute of silence, then 40 minutes of sound, and the end. Each minute was guided for each player, with instructions for volume, short/long notes, chords, perforkm or not. Otherwise, players listened and melded by chosing notes of a chord, phrases and rests, crescendos and whatever. All eyes, including the audience, were on the seconds as they ticked to the minute, anticipating new sounds. Jon took part, mid-right on stage, not leading but participating. This is communal composition. I found it fascinating and satisfying and skilful, and visually interesting, with so many busy musicians, as well as dancer and video and that mesmerising clock.

This was the Saturday evening session. More to come with Sunday’s session. The musicians at SoundOut 2013 are: Adam Sussman (Guitarist /electronics [Brisbane]), Alison Blunt (violin [UK] Barcode Qrt), Alison Plevey (sound manipulation, dance [Canberra]), Andrew Fedorovitch (sax [Canberra]), Annette Giesriegl (vocals [Austria] Barcode Quartet), Antonio Panda Gianfratti (percussion, ABAETETUBA collective, [Brazil]), Elisabeth Harnik (piano [Styria/Austria] Barcode Quartet), Hermione Johnson (piano [New Zealand]), James Waples (percussion [Sydney]), Jeff Henderson (Alto & baritone sax [NZ]), John Porter (tenor sax [Canberra]), Jon Rose (violin, multi-instrumentalist ([Sydney; Berlin]), Josef Klammer (drums, electronics [Austria] Barcode Quartet), Louise Curham (experimental film, performer [Canberra]), Luiz Gubeissi (double bass, ABAETETUBA collective, [Brazil]), Luke Keenan-Brown (drums [Canberra]), Magda Mayas (piano [Germany]), Matt Earle (multi-instrumentalist, Stasis Duo - [Brisbane]), Michael Norris (electronics & feedback [Canberra]), Mike Majkowski (composer, improvisor, double bass [Australia/Berlin]), Reuben Ingalls (guitar, electronics [Canberra]), Rhys Butler (alto sax [Canberra]), Richard Johnson (wind instruments [Canberra]), Rodrigo Montoya (shamisen, guitar, ABAETETUBA collective [Brazil].), Thomas Rohrer (Brazilian fiddle, sax, ABAETETUBA collective [Brazil]), Tony Buck (drums, percussion [Berlin and Sydney]).

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

We all procrastinate

They couldn’t decide on a name, so this collective of procrastinators decided on the obvious: The Procrastinators. But their performance spoke nothing of this. This was a capella, gospel and pop, sung by a dozen or so out of the hotbed of the Strange Weather Gospel Choir. That’s good. They were missing some memebrs, and this was a very short concert, but it was lively and demonstrative and nicely sung. On the day, they were 11 singers: 3 altos; 2 each of bass and tenor; 4 sopranos. From the top you could feel the joy and energy. They moved! It’s done in gospel choirs, but forgotten by others. They featured voices: several tunes with male calls or solo female melodies. They grooved with boop-sha accompaniments. They smiled and made little indicative hand movements, pointing or waving or rocking. Interestingly, they all wore black with a crimson feature: some obvious, like ties or braces or flowers or necklaces, or more suggestively, like headscarves or even crimson lipstick. I liked that. It’s not surprising that the guys wore the ties and the forthright and dramatic altos wore the lipstick. They were fun. But that’s not all, they sounded great. Various gospel tunes, slave-hollers and field responses; pop songs like Under the boardwalk and Hallelujah and a joyful favourite of mine, Walking on sunshine. A suite of African/South African songs from Soweto and the apartheid era. It’s here the audience joined in with claps and some piercing ullulation. Then to end, a tune that worked as art and drama but didn’t appeal to me for its theological individualist self-flagellation, Nobody’s fault but mine, and that cutesy Goodnight sweetheart to finish. This was a lovely little concert and I was chuckling during it and broadly smiling by the end. At least until I found my recording had failed after I’d brought a camera without an SD card. So, just a nasty phone pic. All that’s left is a lively gospel-tinged memory. The Procrastinators are an SATB a capella choir conducted as an autonomous collective (True! They confirmed it. Really…) and introduced by Liz Keirs.

An open Cabinet

The host introduced 1984/1985 as years of memories from childhood, but it was a lot closer to most of the audience, and to Megan and me too. We were at the National Archives to see Shortis & Simpson, the humourous and clever musical duo who sing of politics and Canberra, and in this case, pop culture. We were also there for Dr Jim Stokes and his summary of recently released Cabinet papers from the years 1984/1985. Something I didn’t know is that Labor recently reduced the waiting period for Cabinet records, and more recent years are being gradually released for inspection and study. Thus two years.

There’s a lot of work in this show, on both sides. John told of spending two days reading newspapers in the National Library, and then the writing of lyrics for whatever melodies and the learning of the show and jokes and patter. I’m impressed. Shortis & Simpson are a local gem. Clever, funny and informed; knowing but not defeated. In this case, we heard from them of Cyndi Lauper (Girls just wanna have fun, Time after time); what a $1 coin or $100 note would buy (they were each introduced in these years); of dotcom, Apple Mac and Windows (neologisms of the time); Madonna’s rejection for a part in a musical (to Like a virgin and Like a surgeon); of Medicare and the Hawke reelection and of David Lange and nuclear visits and French nuclear and MX missile tests (to Stevie Wonder and Redgum); of Les Mis (first year on the stage in English, in London, and still in the pop culture zeitgeist) , of Abba and Chess (the musical) and Michael Jackson buying up rights to the Beatles songbook; of Green and gold for sports and Mondo Rock and Wham. At one stage, Moya said “For baby boomers like us, the more we move into the ‘80s, the harder the songs are to love”. I’m sure the audience sympathised.

Then the serious stuff, with Jim rushing headlong through Australian political history. Bob Hawke, family tribulations, tax summit, The Gang of Four, Peacock and Howard, bank reform, MX missiles and Palm Sunday peace marches, Anzus and NZ, Lionel Murphy, the Accord, Button’s Car plan, the Australia card, Royal Commissions - Evatt’s on chemicals in Vietnam (read Agent Orange) and McClelland’s on British Nuclear tests in Australia (read Maralinga) - affirmative action and women in the workplace and land rights and the continuing story of illegal immigrants (not then boat people, as I remember). Even Cabinet agreement for a Bill of Rights, which was something I didn’t remember. Now, that’s a big list, and the issues are important and this was over only 2 years, or perhaps less. It helps to view this from a distance. One thing I realise is that many of those themes continue. Many reforms get put on the backburner for reasons of politics. Some get settled (GST); others linger like a bad smell. Also, how good is a government that achieves so much. It makes you admire the leadership we had then. Keating with his razor wit and Hawke with his public affability. Jim mentioned some elements leading to Hawke’s success: consensus, management skills and hard work. It was Hawke/Keating Labor that did those economic changes that the dries claim and love (deregulation, banking and financial reform, floating the dollar; the consumption tax/GST waited for Howard to claim) but they did it in a way that recognised issues of winners and losers (distribution of wealth) and consensus. We have issues with poverty but we are nowhere near the 1%-99% societies courtesy of Thatcher and Reagan. Also, we are the ones in the comfy position in world economic terms, so their inequality hasn’t even served those economies. Enough on this, but it gets you thinking. The Archives are one component in knowing our history through evidence rather than through ideology and/or ignorance.

S&S finished off with another few snippets of pop history. Movies (1984, that’s obvious, but others), Thatcher’s win over miners to the accompaniment of Sting (We work the black seam together), Neighbours (apparently the first, unsuccessful incarnation was on Channel 7 in 1985, before it moved to Channel 10 and international success a fews years later), and to a finish on Leonard Cohen’s classic song Hallelujah.

The other pics are from the touching NAA exhibition On their own : British child migrants. “More than 100,000 children were sent from Britain to Canada, Australia and other Commonwealth countries through child migration schemes from the 1860s onwards. / The lives of these children changed dramatically and fortunes varied. / Some succeeded in creating new futures. Others suffered lonely, brutal childhoods. All experienced disruption and separation from family and homeland.” (http://www.naa.gov.au/visit-us/exhibitions/on-their-own/index.aspx, viewed 2 Feb 2013). Another eason to visit the Archives.

Shortis & Simpson are local gems, no doubt about that, but so are the worthy and informed branches of the APS such as our National Archives and their quietly informed people. All components, if not always conspicuous, of this interesting city of Canberra. Shortis & Simpson are John Shortis (piano, vocals) and Moya Simpson (vocals). They came out of the Cabinet at the National Archives of Australia with Dr Jim Stokes (researcher).

Original Lofty

It’s good to see Luke Sweeting’s band opening the season at the Loft. He’s a kingpin in the existence of the space after he found it and its grand piano to do his daily practice. Luke’s on tour with a very impressive band playing tunes that we’ve heard before, but that seem to be more mature, more richly embellished. This really is good writing: diverse, colourful with horn harmonies and interplays, with sections that sit satisfyingly although with some tension, and neat little written interludes to join one section to the other. And with plenty of space for solos for all players.

And what good players! Luke himself is strong as soloist and composer, but also as a comping support and otherwise as aware leader. The rhythm section is always mobile and encouraging. James held some ostinatos with long intervals and movements over the fingerboard with good intonation and reliable feel and read dots with considerable fluency, notably some satisfying unison lines with piano (what a nice sound!) while Finn busily coloured the whole, playing over the kit and over the groove. It’s a modern sound, tapping on the 1-3 rather than swing’s 2-4, the bass stating the chordal movements, settling ostinatos or syncopating chord tones, and the drums busily working over the whole, implying rather than stating the beat. Both were comfortable in solos, too. I particularly enjoyed an early bass solo (I think he took two) that was broad in pitch after an initial simple statement of intent. I was recording and I thought several times that I’m glad I’ve got this gig. So it was with the horns, too. This was a front line of alto, trumpet and trombone, all very strong, as a well intoned section or as improvising counterpoint players or as soloists. Different, though. The order of first solos was Matt, Ken and James and I kept thinking they can’t get any better. Of course, they were just different rather than better, and all were so satisfying. Matt was fast, building from thematic to screeds of notes, contorted and playing with dissonance, as saxists do. Then Ken came in, surprisingly quiet and sweet for a trumpeter, stating tonalities and running chords with ease and control then playing with octaves and intervals and phrasings. Then James, experienced and wily, deeper, initially more obtuse and playful and all over the tonalities and modes, then more orthodox, sliding notes or more clearly stating the changes. Then later, from all three, airy counterpoint and microtonality, all whale tones and distance and airiness. It’s another sound that I recognise as contemporary. But that was another composition, after the break. I noticed the second half was more inquisitive and undemonstrative than the first, although the gig ended with Fatty, one of Luke’s most lively and popular compositions. He’s got several like that, with snippets of melody that sit nicely and feel right for humming to yourself as you drive home after the gig or next morning in the shower. It’s a great skill to have, to write a catchy melody.

Suffice to say I enjoyed Luke back at the Loft. The band’s off on tour and it will only get sharper (there were a few little slips, but so what?) and those horn parts will just get sweeter. This is truly a local product with a long way to go. A relaxed and easy gig with gilded compositions. Luke Sweeting (piano, compositions) led his sextet comprising Matt Handel (alto), Ken Allars (trumpet), James Greening (trombone), James Heazlewood-Dale (bass) and Finn Ryan (drums).